Driving
by Silver Bones in a Green Sauce
Summary: Sequel to Usually Normal & Private Parties. Clyde wasn't gay, but sometimes he could look over that with Pip; the kid did, after all, look like a chick. One sided Clyde/Pip. Kind of.


He couldn't believe how stupid his friends were being. Not for the first time, he thought about ditching them—for good. Even Token, who was usually so _laid-back_, was going along with the idiotic idea. If he wasn't gritting his teeth together, he might tell them all off. The idea of flipping them the bird and walking away forever, dramatic as it seemed, was becoming more appealing as the minutes dragged on.

But then Eric Cartman called them—_all _of them, though Pip was momentarily missing from the group—fags, and his anger found an outlet.

He was fond of his boys: Token, who he had never had a serious fight with in the _years _that they had hung out, Clyde, who was his best friend, Tweek, who he actually, loathe as he was to admit it, _worried _about, and Pip, who he was already well-adjusted to. And the fattest piece of shit in South Park had just ripped on them. Besides, he was having a _**bad **_day anyway. So what if his irritation had finally gotten the best of him and he had hit Cartman square in the nose?

Later, when he was in the principle's office and she asked them why they had started a fight with the other group of boys, when Token had answered that it was because they had nearly broken Pip's arm, which is what they had gone to confront Cartman about, he wished he had done more than black two eyes and bust a nose.

There would always be tomorrow.

CT/PP/CD/TB/TT

He wasn't sure who was paying for Pip's hospital bills. The state, he supposed, though the Brit was almost legally an adult. He wasn't worried about it though; if the blonde was bothered by it, he would say something about it. Probably. Token was sure to ask him later anyway, and if he could, he would help him out. If not, he would probably mention it to Craig. A leader needs to know when his soldiers need help, after all.

Soldiers. Leaders. He sounded crazy. It was true though; it had just been two days, but Cartman's group of friends—if they could even be called that—had been more hostile than usual. Fist fights tended to do that to people. They were too much trouble, and if it hadn't been for Pip's bruises and arm sling, he might let it go—might being the key word. If he saw an opportunity to cut the bastards down, he would.

Or he might just make one.

Or two.

Or however many he wanted until he calmed down.

He couldn't see his anger leaving him anytime soon. Being apathetic most of the time had its backfires and one of them was that when you finally felt something, you couldn't handle it so well. He felt like he was going to pop off and break someone's face in at any second.

Of course, he didn't show it. His eyebrow would twitch and he would flip people off more than usual, he would be snappy, but that was it. On the inside he was fuming, but on the outside...

He kept picturing himself with a pipe in his hand, breaking Eric Cartman's bones.

Yep. He definitely wasn't normal anymore. Naturally, it would be because of those guys. No wonder no one liked them. They fucked you up. They were poison. They—

"Craig? Are you all right?"

Pip's voice was soft, making it sound more feminine than it usually did. He sounded tired too, but when they had tried to leave so he could get some rest, he had begged them to stay. He hated the hospital, he had said. He was frightened his attackers would come back, he had said. There had been a threatening note by his bed when he had woken up, he had said. Craig didn't doubt it either. Cartman was a sociopath—that was common knowledge. He was surprised the kid hadn't been smothered in his sleep. So, because of his begging, they had finally agreed to stay. Even Clyde was standing in a corner of the room, though he did it grudgingly.

He grunted in response to the Brit's question. He wasn't in the mood to talk. He had murder plans to think through... Besides, Token was distracting the boy anyway. Craig didn't bother hiding his eye roll; they might as well date, though Token had never hinted at preferring his own gender to girls. The dark-skinned boy's hand was covering Pip's own, and he was telling the boy that he would be safe with them there. It didn't matter that the other group of boys were just as strong as them, maybe stronger; Pip didn't need to think about that.

"GAH! What if I'm next? I need to hide!"

Tweek's usual paranoia actually had a bit of possibility to it. The blonde, like Butters, who was considered one of Cartman's these days, had chose to stay out of the fight, but he was still one of them. It wouldn't surprise Craig at all if the twitchy boy was the next to be put in the hospital. Craig's frustration grew, though he still didn't show it.

"Why would they do that to you? Just because you're weird..."

Though Token seemed irritated, as he usually did if Clyde said something rude to one of the other group members, he didn't say anything. Craig didn't bother saying anything either, though he'd make sure to kick Clyde's ass good for it later; he wasn't in the mood for problems _within _the group, especially considering the shit he was having to deal with at school now. It was Pip who finally answered him.

"Children can't help feeling uncomfortable by what's different. You've done it too, Clyde, remember? Try not to think any less of them for it."

Two weeks, a _week_, earlier, Craig would have thought Clyde would be capable of doing it to the orphan again. The jock still had his hostile moments towards the boy, though they weren't nearly as frequent as they had been when the blonde had first started hanging out with them, and friendly moments were rare. Clyde usually just ignored Pip all together these days. Their friendship was nonexistant—Craig had thought. As he watched Clyde's face closely though, he had to wonder if their newest member hadn't grown on him as much as he had the rest of them. Craig's blue eyes flashed to Token, and if he had to guess, he would say that his friend was thinking something along the same lines.

CT/PP/CD/TB/TT

"I'd still be at my house if I was you."

Pip, never being one to miss much school, was back a few days after the attack. The British boy couldn't understand Clyde's dislike of the place that he got to socialize at. Of course, Pip was invited over to someone's house at least twice a week now, but school was still usually the only place he got to see the whole group.

"I'd get terribly lonely if I was at my home."

It was lunch. Instead of eating inside of the cafeteria, they were outside in the back of Clyde's truck. Token was sitting between Tweek and Pip, Craig was sitting across from them, and Clyde was sitting on the end, letting his legs hang off. The brunette hadn't looked at Pip when he had spoken, his attention focused on the burger in his hand, but the blonde hadn't noticed; he had his own lunch to pay attention to. Tweek, who was chugging more coffee than usual to keep himself warm from the cold weather, and Craig, who was smoking, were the only ones who weren't eating; Token had a plate of _sushi_, of all things, on his lap. Disgusting.

"I'm so sick of this shitty school food."

And just like that, Clyde's hamburger was thrown to the ground. He wouldn't go hungry though; Pip had made it a habit to offer Clyde sweets, and as the blonde stood and walked the few feet over to his presumed friend, placing his hand on the jock's shoulder, Craig knew what was coming. He watched as the brown eyed boy tensed; he wasn't used to Pip touching him, and though he usually wouldn't allow such an action, he let it slide. Good; Craig still owed him an ass beating, and he really wasn't in the mood to do it twice.

"You can have some of my ice cream, if you'd like."

Of course he'd like; Clyde was a fatass. Craig watched as the brunette took the bowl of vanilla ice cream from the lithe boy, along with the spoon Pip was holding out, and dug in. The blonde squeezed Clyde's shoulder, earning a grunt from the boy, and sat down beside him. Craig's eyebrow raised; his friends were sharing the bowl. He turned his gaze to Token, who looked equally surprised, and the two boys shrugged at each other.

"ACK! What if I starve?"

The spell was broken; Clyde put the bowl down and hopped off of the truck. Pip looked ready to share his treat with the group's other blonde, not that Tweek would take it out of fear of catching something from one of the other boys, but Clyde interrupted him before he could offer.

"Let's go get some pizza."

CT/PP/CD/TB/TT

The front of the vehicle would only hold three people. The spots were taken by Clyde, who was the driver, Tweek, who Craig could hear shouting about the consequences of skipping school, and Token, who was trying to calm the nervous wreck of a boy. That meant that Craig and Pip had to sit in the back. Craig didn't mind the bite of the chilly air hitting his face enough to claim a seat in the front, and other than saying that he hoped his hat didn't fly off, Pip didn't say anything negative about it.

Craig spent the short ride to the pizza place watching his companion. Other than the few bruises left on his face and the sling his arm was in, Pip seemed fine from the attack earlier in the week. He was as chatty as he usually was, going on about horses or some nonsense, and being put in the hospital didn't seem to damper his mood at all. If it wasn't _Pip_ he was observing, he would think that they were faking cheerfulness. But it _was_ Pip, and he was used to the boy's personality enough to not let it annoy him—much.

CT/PP/CD/TB/TT

The pizza joint wasn't very populated, but considering the time of the day it was, it wasn't surprising. They had hopped out of the truck without bothering to look around for any adults they might have to dodge; they skipped school at least once or twice every few weeks, so the worry that had once gripped them—well, _some _of them anyway—had long since faded—other than Tweek, that is.

"What if the grease causes my heart to clog up? GAH!"

They were sitting in a booth made for four people, a bit more packed together than they would have been the year before. It had always been _their _booth though—Clyde had even carved their initials into the table—and a new member to their group wasn't going to stop them from using it.

"If you don't eat it, you might starve."

It was a cruel thing to say, but he didn't care. It wasn't like he was threatening Tweek personally, though feeding into the boy's paranoia was probably just as bad. Still though, it worked; the blonde was eating, though slowly as to not choke. Token was giving him a look, but Craig would ignore it. It wasn't like _he _had never said something similar to get Tweek to eat.

"Is it common in America to put little pieces of pineapple on your food?"

"No; Token just has weird taste in food. Pick it off."

Craig's eyebrow shot up again; Clyde was actually _speaking _to the Brit now in a non-hostile tone. Maybe next they'd start to make out and decide to raise little orphan children together. It seemed about as likely as Clyde actually being _friendly _towards the boy.

"I think I'd rather like to try it."

Clyde shrugged, and Token caught Craig's gaze again; the jock would have usually been irritated at Pip not listening to him. Of course, the fact that he wasn't scowling or rolling his eyes could have just been because he had food sitting in front of him. That was probably it.

"What if the pineapple gets lodged in my throat and I suffocate? Or what if I'm allergic? GAH!"

The other boys, even Token, ignored Tweek's paranoia and kept chewing. Even _Tweek _ignored his paranoia; after picking off the pineapple—along with the cheeseand everything on top—he finished his first slice of pizza.

"I find it enjoyable, myself."

He had aimed the remark at Clyde; they were actually going to have a full-on _conversation _going if this kept up—or not. It seemed to be taking the brunette a minute to realize what the blonde was talking about. Despite having a mouth full of food, he replied when he finally did figure out what Pip had been talking about.

"Gross."

Like he was one to talk; sausage was falling out of his mouth, and Craig was sure that there was a joke there. The raven haired boy thought that the attempt at a conversation had failed, but it picked back up before his annoyance could set in; it would cause the group dynamics to be a lot smoother if Clyde wasn't so irritable with Pip.

"I thought the French were supposed to like good food."

Of all the wrong things to say. Pip seemed to take it in stride though, thankfully.

"Oh, I'm not French. I'm—"

"Whatever, it's all the same."

"I assure you, it's really not. Why, it's very different ind—"

"Who cares? You're not from here, and that's all that really matters."

"But I—"

"Even if you live here all your life, you won't really ever be _from _here."

"I've worked quite hard to—"

"So why bother?"

"The American culture—"

"I don't see the point."

"I'll fit in one day, I'm su—"

"There isn't one—there isn't a point in trying."

"I—"

"That kid from Hell had a better chance of fitting in."

"Damien—"

"Went back home for a reason."

"His father made him though. It's quite diff—"

"Because, when everyone tells _you_ to go home, you just ignore them."

"The children are just having a bit of fun at my expense. They don't really mean—"

"They mean it."

"They—"

"They mean every word of it."

"If I went home—"

"Everyone would celebrate."

"—my sister would just send me right back."

"Then go somewhere else."

"I've grown quite fond of—"

"You could try living somewhere else."

"But there's no where else that—"

"Then kill yourself."

It had gone too far; it had gone too far the minute Clyde had _spoke _to Pip. Craig should have known better than to let them talk to each other. He should have said something; _Token _should have said something. He knew though, without looking, that the dark-skinned boy was just as stunned as he was. They didn't expect Clyde to be _nice _to Pip, but they hadn't expected _that _either; though he felt stupid for it, he had expected _better _of Clyde. He, like Token, had wanted to see if Clyde could be won over the tiniest bit more by the Brit. Even Tweek had been watching, hoping for an interaction that would lead to a more peaceful environment. They should have known better.

Clyde's tone hadn't been hateful, had lacked malice, though. He wasn't even focusing fully on the boy, instead picking bits of fruit off of his food. Craig knew that his friend had a stupid streak in him, and though it still pissed him off, he hoped that that was what had happened—that Clyde was being too thick to realize the full implications of what he had just said. Either way though, he was getting his ass kicked later, even though Pip didn't seem terribly upset; he seemed more surprised than anything.

"Heavens, Clyde, life is far too wonderful for that. Besides, if I did that, however would I bring you candies or try new things or try to make Craig smile? How would I compliment Tweek on the delicious way his coffee smells each morning?"

Clyde seemed to honestly consider that, probably because it involved food—specifically food for _him_. Craig could feel Token relax a bit at that—because of how crowded the booth was, they were pressed arm to arm—but his own shoulders stayed tense. Tweek, unsurprisingly, was just as on-edge, but that was nothing new. Neither Clyde nor Pip noticed the tension surrounding them.

Three boys watched as Clyde popped a pepperoni slice into his mouth and chewed slowly before finally swallowing; Token's eyes were on Pip.

"Good point. How else would you learn to stay away from Token's crappy food?"

Other than letting out an indignant "hey," Token ignored the diss; his brown eyes watched as curiosity came into a blue pair. More tension slid out of his boy. They would be fine now; everything would be fine.

"Do you think they have pineapple pizza in Hell? I don't think Damien would enjoy it very much."

"Totally. They probably feed it to the masses on Satan's birthday."

"That would be a rather enjoyable punishment, I think."

"Yeah, _you_ would. No one else."

"ACK! What if they try to force feed me giant pineapples?"

"It's not _that _bad."

"Yes it is."

"I rather like it."

"Yeah, because you and Token are butt-buddies."

"We are _not_."

"Scared Tweek will think you're cheating on him?"

"Gah! Token wants to be in a relationship with me? Oh man, that is way too much pressure!"

"I was under the impression that he liked Wendy?"

"Not since she dumped him when they were kids."

"Oh dear, I see. Is she going back out with Stanley again?"

"Who knows?"

"Who _cares_?"

"Yeah, who cares? It's Red he has the hots for these days anyway."

"I do not."

"Heavens, I've thought her name was Rebecca for years."

"Same girl."

"Then why—"

"Don't try to put too much thought into what the girls do."

"What if she forgot her name? What if _**I **_forget my name?"

"You don't go by _your _actual name."

"You won't forget your name."

"Oh, you're right."

"Just tattoo it on you somewhere."

"That's stupid."

"That'd hurt terribly though."

"GAH!"

The conversation carried on for a few more hours, all five of the boys pitching in. By the time two pizzas, along with half of another, had been ate, all tension, even from Craig, was gone, and a certain Brit had grown on Clyde a bit more—though he wasn't going to admit it any time soon. Even if someone called him out on the fact that Pip had made him laugh _twice_ during the conversation, a great improvement, he'd deny it. He'd even deny that he let Pip ride up front on the way to Craig's house—there was no way that they were going back to school after skipping two blocks—if someone asked. And he'd definitely deny that the blonde wasn't as annoying as he had previously thought.

CT/PP/CD/TB/TT

"You can't drive?"

They were still in the truck. Pip had been watching him for the last five minutes, absolutely fascinated with what he was doing to the stick-shift, before Clyde had finally caught on, got creeped out a bit, and demanded an explanation. That had been it—the blonde wanted to know how to drive.

"Oh, no. I've never had an opportunity to learn."

He was still in a good mood from the pizza, the conversation in the diner, and getting out of class. He would kick himself later, but he didn't stop to think about it.

"I'll teach you later."

He would deny that too if anyone asked, even Tweek, who was in the truck with them.

"I'd love that."

CT/PP/CD/TB/TT

Craig's family wasn't home, but it was what they had expected; the Tucker household was usually where they would end up after skipping school. It was also common for them to end up in Craig's room, a DVD in the player; they were watching an action film, something American with car chases and explosions that Pip hadn't seen before. The loud noise was making Tweek a mess, but the others were enjoying the film.

The problem with five teenage boys hanging out in a bedroom was the lack of space to relax. Craig's room wasn't as large as Token's, and he only had one chair, the one at his computer desk, in it; Token had taken it, sitting backwards so he was facing the chair, his arms crossed over the top of it. Tweek was sitting on the bed, a pillow clutched to his chest, his grasp tightening and loosening periodically, because Craig didn't want to hear him go on about something lurking under his bed, waiting to grab him at any moment because he was in the floor next to it; Craig, who was sitting next to the boy, wasn't going to sit on his own floor. That left Clyde and Pip on the floor together since the pair on the bed had their legs stretched out. The blonde didn't seem to mind, and Clyde eventually stopped whining about it, though it took until the movie was half-way over.

Clyde was leaning against one of the legs of the bed, the TV in front of him; his approximately to it was something he could appreciate and one of the reasons that he had quietened down—the other being that he had simply given up on being able to sit on the bed, knowing that Craig could be stubborn. Besides, the view wasn't half bad, the TV aside.

He would add checking out Pip's ass to the list of things he would deny.

The blonde was stretched out on his stomach, making him closer to the television than even Clyde. Clyde couldn't understand how being so close to the TV wasn't hurting his eyes, but Pip didn't complain or move, even when the screen lit up with fire; he decided that having no problems with eye strain was a talent of the Brit's, but he didn't think about it for too long. His eyes kept wondering to the boy's ass. He knew he should probably feel shame, but he didn't; the blonde looked too much like a chick to him to let it bother him, and it wasn't like it was the first time he had looked—though he would deny that too.

He thought about what it'd feel like to touch it, but he decided against it. He was horny, but he wasn't _that _desperate.

Damn though, the kid could be hotter looking than Bebe at times.

He forced his eyes back to the television in front of him.

CT/PP/CD/TB/TT

"I find her oh-so-very pretty."

"No way, her rack's not big enough."

"Why does this keep coming up?"

"Because they're perverts."

"What if they turn ME into a pervert? Eeek!"

"You'd bust a nut if anyone hit on you."

"Ack!"

"Maybe you'd finally drop one."

"Burn."

"She is quite lovely though."

"Cartman would kill you if he found out you wanna bang Patty Nelson."

"He already tried, remember?"

"Oh, Heavens, I don't want to _fornicate_ with the lass. I just think she has very nice hair."

"..."

"She has quite a flattering way of dressing as well."

"..."

"Not everyone could look so smashing in that color she's so fond of."

"..."

"And her eyes _are_ a spectacular shade of gray, and they look even lovelier when she outlines them with eyeliner."

"...You're too gay to function."

"But I function quite well, if I do say so myself—although, I _am_ incredibly happy, especially with you chaps around."

"..."

"...We're watching the movie that's from the next time we get high."

"..."

A moment of silence crept by, the boys thinking the conversation, which had been just between Pip and Clyde around the end, was over—until Craig threw his two cents in.

"Fag."

"It's Token's movie."

CT/PP/CD/TB/TT

It was late before they finally left the Tucker's; they had ate dinner in Craig's room—more pizza, which he didn't mind, especially since the pineapples had been left off. Though he hadn't had football practice that day, he was exhausted. It was probably from spending the afternoon watching the first _Lord of the Rings_ movie; it was good and all, but it would wear anyone out. By the time he dropped Tweek and Pip off at their homes—he was the ride, after all—he wanted nothing more than to take a hot shower, jerk off in it (preferably to Bebe), crawl into bed, look at a porno magazine, and fall asleep. He still had Token to drop off though.

He couldn't shake the vibe that his friend wanted to talk to him about something. Token didn't press anything though, and he was more than happy to pass up the chance to have a serious conversation at the moment.

CT/PP/CD/TB/TT

That night in the shower he thought of a blonde's ass, but it wasn't Bebe's. It was arousing enough to get him off, but when he got into bed later, he felt disgusted with himself; he had checked Pip out before, yeah, but he had never actually touched himself to the boy—or _any _boy—before.

Pip gained a friend—an _actual _friend, not just a tolerance—in Clyde, and lost that friendship in the same day.

CT/PP/CD/TB/TT

"I don't want it."

Pip couldn't remember Clyde rejecting any of the treats he had brought for him before. He didn't let it get to him though, deciding that Clyde just had a stomach or tooth ache, or something similar. The fact that Clyde never sat by him anymore didn't escape him, but surely the boy just wanted to sit next to Craig; it was nothing personal. The fact that Clyde never taught him how to drive was also nothing to worry about; the boy was terribly busy, after all.

When he made the suggestion that Clyde should see a doctor for his ache, that maybe _he _could drive Clyde to the dentist, Clyde moved further away from him and told him to mind his own business.

Pip didn't let it bother him. His friend was probably just irritable because he was in pain, he knew.

CT/PP/CD/TB/TT

He would say that it was coincidence that caused him to see them, but he knew better—it was because of Cartman's fat. If the kid wasn't so big, Clyde probably would have gone on his way, missing him. Luckily for a certain Brit, that wasn't the case. Of course, seeing Cartman alone wasn't enough to cause suspicion; the boy was, after all, by his own car. Clyde had heard Pip though, and that was enough to gain his full attention.

"You've already taken my lunch, Eric. I haven't got—"

"Shut it, Frenchie."

Cartman's back was to Clyde as he bullied the foreign student. He almost went on his way, still miffed at Pip, but what Cartman said next stopped him.

"You're such a _fag_, Pip."

_That's only okay when **I **say it. _

Or Craig, but whatever. He was still pissed off because one of Cartman's friends had taken a swing at him earlier in the week.

It wasn't like Eric could talk anyway; he did, after all, spend a good deal of his time with Butters, who was just as gay as Pip, Stan and Kyle, who were probably fucking, and Kenny McCormick, who would make a pass at anyone if he thought he stood half of a chance, sometimes not even _that _much. It wouldn't surprise him if Cartman ended up being the biggest fag of them all though, knowing some of the shit he had done over the years.

"What are you doing?"

He hated how whiny his voice could still be. He didn't think about it though; he didn't have _time—_Cartman was turning around.

"What do you want, Clyde?"

He wasn't sure what to say. There hadn't been any hostility in Cartman's voice despite the fist fight they had been in together that very week; like almost everything else in the town, it seemed to just roll off the kid's shoulders as if it had never happened. Of course, Cartman could just be afraid that Clyde would try to kick his ass, he knew. Yeah—yeah, that was probably it. He felt himself relax; he could handle this.

"Leave him alone."

Maybe it was because, despite being extremely dangerous when angered, Cartman was a pussy, but after a moment of hesitation he let up; he held his hands up in surrender and backed away from Pip. Clyde liked to think it was because he's on the football team, making him intimidating. He _had_ bulkedup a bit over the years.

"All right, bra, it's kewl."

Clyde glanced at Pip then watched as his bully walked off, presumably to the school. Pip's eyes were on him when he turned his attention back to the boy, but before he had time to look the boy over for bruises, his vision was obscured by strands of blonde hair; Pip was hugging him. Long arms were around his neck, a thin body pressed against him. He could feel his cheeks warm up, though he tried to fight it. His eyes lowered to the ground, and he caught sight of what explained why he was having trouble seeing anything other than yellow—there, on the ground where Cartman had knocked it off, was Pip's hat.

"Thank you oh-so-very much, Clyde!"

He didn't bother to hold back a sigh; he didn't think Pip would be bothered by it, and he didn't care if the boy _was—_or, at least, that was what he told himself. He didn't want to think about it. His gaze moved to the sky, and though she probably couldn't hear him, he silently asked his mother what was happening to him—he was turning into a _girl_.

"You're welcome."

He didn't hug back; even if he liked the blonde a tiny bit, which he would never admit, he didn't like him enough to actually _hug _the guy, especially when he was squirming against him like that. He'd break Pip's neck if he gave him a boner. Finally though, the blonde pulled away—and, thankfully, Clyde was still erection free. He still felt awkward though, which Pip seemed to oblivious of. He let out another sigh.

"Come on."

He could hear Pip following behind him, trusting him. His eyes moved to the sky again; he was sure his mother was laughing at him.

"Where are we going?"

"I told you I'd teach you how to drive, remember?"

Sometimes he hated his life. He hated having to deal with their crappy school, the way his sister would look at him whenever the topic of their departed mother came up, he hated their whole _town._ It was almost enough to make him _cry_.

"Ace!"

Clyde wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean, but it sounded cheerful, so he figured it was a good thing. Maybe Pip's optimism would help cancel out the pessimism he was surely going to develop if he kept hanging around Craig.


End file.
